


Winter Wonders

by matan4il



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Magical Realism, Major Character Injury, POV Alternating, Snow, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28243206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matan4il/pseuds/matan4il
Summary: Written for 911 Christmas week 2020, day 2 prompt:"You are the only gift I want" + loveBuck’s been away for two days and Eddie’s not liking that. It’s like there’s been a shift in the balance of things that makes it all a bit crooked. Certainly down at the station, but even at home, with Chris. Not that this is Buck’s place, not officially. But he spends so much time over at theirs that it might as well be. On the rare occasion when he actually sleeps in his own loft, their house feels emptier.OrDuring a challenging holiday season, Chris, Eddie and Buck each have to make a difficult choice for a shot at a happy ending.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 139





	1. Chris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emilie_buckarootiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilie_buckarootiger/gifts).



> Emilie mon amour, I'm so sorry that I missed the chance to write you a birthday fic as a gift, I hope this makes up for that and that you know how much I love and adore you for all of your sweetness, creativity, talent and the joy that you bring me and so many others in the fandom! Je t'aime and t'adore tellement! xoxoxox
> 
> Thank you so much to three incredible friends, to [Kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/profile) for the help with the medical and ski patrol aspects of the fic, as well as to [Toughpaperround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToughPaperRound/pseuds/ToughPaperRound) and [Meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly/pseuds/meloingly) for the beta'ing! Appreciate you all so much! xoxoxox

Buck's been away for two days and Eddie's not liking that. It's like there's been a shift in the balance of things that makes it all a bit crooked. Certainly down at the station, but even at home, with Chris. Not that this is Buck's place, not officially. But he spends so much time over at theirs that it might as well be. On the rare occasion when he actually sleeps in his own loft, their house feels emptier.

Two days without their Buck and an uncharacteristic gloom is starting to set in. Chris is moping this morning at his cereals instead of eating them. Eddie hates this, his son never had any issues with his appetite. The bowl before him is the only thing sadder than his little face.

"Come on, buddy. You have to eat."

What's making it all worse is the fact that Buck left no explanation for why he was going away, only told their Captain where to and more than that, he hasn't been answering his phone since the day before. Chris isn't the only one who's on edge because of that.

Eddie tries Buck's cellphone one more time and when no one's picking up this morning either, he makes a decision. "Alright, for real, Christopher," he uses all his decisive cues, words, tone, his son's full name, "you're finishing your food now so you can go spend the day with Abuela. I'll talk to Bobby and if by the time I get Buck's location we haven't had contact, I'll go after him."

Chris smiles. "I'm coming with you."

"You're staying with your grandmother. No arguing, mijo!"

Of course not, Chris is a good kid, he'd never argue. Pouting is far more effective, as he's learned.

An hour or so later, they're both in the truck, driving up towards the mountains. It's snowing there. ‘Tis the season. They pull up in a parking lot by the local police station. It's tiny in comparison with the one where they once visited Athena, but there's a lot more mayhem. Something's clearly up. 

When they get closer, the writing 'ski patrol' becomes evident on the uniform of some of the people huddled around, discussing things in tense voices.

Eddie finds the man who seems to be in charge, the incident commander, then identifies himself as an LAFD firefighter and asks questions about what's going on.

There's an immediate change in the tone of the commander after he hears about Eddie's vocation. Chris has noticed it happening with a lot of people, as if they've suddenly gained a lot of respect, because they got to peek beneath his dad's shirt and saw the big, red Superman ‘S' there.

The details come out in a torrent. A snow avalanche. Several people are missing. Considering the amount of time that has passed, the current working assumption is that the worst has happened, but the search is on to find them, one way or another. 

Eddie glances in his son's direction. "Chris, if you'd rather go wait in the car..."

"I'm not cold," he replies quietly. They both know that's not what his dad was referring to and what his answer means.

"If you change your mind..." Eddie says and hesitates. Christopher guesses his father is wondering whether to insist, but finally decides to let it go. Some kids at school don't know what death is yet, but he's not one of them. He shakes his head at his dad to reassure him.

"Don't worry," the incident commander says. "We have search teams all over the place and we're about to rotate them, to get fresh eyes on the ground."

Eddie nods. "How can I find out if my... if my colleague is one of the missing people?" 'Colleague' is the best choice. If firefighters have this man's respect, this tells him Buck is one as well.

"What's their name?" The commander asks, while opening up the dossier he was holding to a page with a detailed list.

"Bu... Evan Buckley."

"Hmmm." His finger moves down the paper and Eddie watches as it crosses several lines, then comes to a stop. "Buckley, you said? The cabin rental manager reported that your colleague didn't come back for check out time, so yes, I'm sorry to tell you that he is. Missing and presumed dead."

Missing.

Presumed...

Eddie's head is too light, trying to process this, but he can't afford to be dizzy now. ‘Presumed' is bad. But it's not the end of the line, not yet. The assessment could be wrong. Buck could be out there, still alive and in desperate need for someone to believe that and get to him in time.

"Which team am I joining?"

"That's kind of you to offer, b..." the commander starts, but is cut off just as fast.

"No. I'm going." And there they are, his decisive cues. Anyone can decipher them as surely as Chris does. "Tell me which team to go with."

"You're not qualified. That's the end of that."

"Sir," Eddie says insistently, "LAFD has a far more extensive search and rescue training than most fire departments and I'm a certified AEMT with several years as a combat medic in the Army." Then he pauses. "Please," he adds. "Buck's not just my colleague. He's my friend."

The commander must understand something, because when he speaks again, he sounds gentler. "I understand. That's impressive and you're probably right that you can do this, but we're not allowed. If we take you with us and something happens to you, someone on the team or anyone you come across, we can all get in trouble." He puts a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I truly am sorry."

Then he moves away as he dispatches the teams through his walkie talkie.

For a moment, Chris watches as his father's head sags. The sleds' motors are running and as they depart, their roars die down. It's silent again when Christopher lets go of one crutch handle and slips his warm hand into his dad's cold one.

Eddie looks up and then at Chris, almost like he's forgotten that his son is there. "Okay," he says.

He picks up his son, then moves to the truck, gets out the winter gear he brought with him for both of them and makes sure they dress up quickly.

Once that's done, he looks right into his son's eyes. "Christopher, I need to leave right now. You can help by going into the police station and staying with the officers until I return. You got that?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good, I'll see you soon."

And with that, he leaves the parking lot, going to brave the snowy mountain trails on his own.

Chris watches his dad's figure becoming smaller and smaller until he's a dot in the distance, before that too is no more. The parking lot is cold and the police station, small as it is, looks warm and inviting in comparison. But there are tiny snowflakes that begin to fall and Chris could swear that they hum a melody of magic as they float down through the air. 

He listens to the song. It calls him. Tiny police stations with stuffy offices are no place for the spirit of a boy like him. 'So come away, o human child,' the flakes seem to whisper inaudibly, 'to the waters and the wild...'

He follows them. The path they lead him on takes him to a nearby narrow passage between snow-covered rocks. It's not easy with the crutches through the rising piles of snow on the ground, but he's in no rush. The lilt of the sounds is round and sweet. It's not pushing him.

When he makes it to the end of the passage, the snow-powdered rock walls that had surrounded him give way to a small clearing, where the grass is white with snow and the edge of a lake kisses it with frozen lips. 

Everything around Chris is white and glistening, while the space is thick with some substance that is less than snow and more than air. It tickles his nose and he sneezes. The particles of matter are blown away by it and dancing, they move, re-group and re-shape, a certain sparkle tremoring out of them, until Christopher is looking at a tiny human-like being, rainbow colors moving in waves across its skin, with glittering wings, hovering before him.

"Ummm. Hello?" he asks uncertainly.

"Heee-llloooo," the being replies, its voice echoing with the ringing of far away bells, "Chhrrriiis."

"How do you know my name?" he asks, but somehow isn't that surprised.

When the being replies, the bells are still present in its speech, but Chris is adapting to it and distinguishing words from echoes better. "I know you," it says. "I have come for you, little one."

And that may seem a bit funny, coming from a creature that Christopher could close his fist around easily, but he knows better than to think size is what matters here.

"Come for me?" he wonders.

"In the nights that followed the big waves, we have heard your cries, human child. We have felt your pain and sorrow. You have lost much. A woman. Young and beautiful. Warm embraces and the smell of spring in her hair," the creature says and visions dance in front of Chris of his mother during one late afternoon, the last rays of that day's light falling around her. "You miss her, nightly. So does the man who held you when you cried. He hurt and you weeped for him, too. When he couldn't." The visions fade into ones of his dad, holding Chris tight in his arms and rocking them both in an attempt for calming down. "You stand to lose more. Another now. Rose kissed eyebrow and eyes of sea. He brings warmth and healing," the visions transform into the image of Buck, smiling at Chris with his eyes no less than with his lips. That's how Chris knew the second they met that they clicked. "Brings to you and to the man." So many images play out of the three of them, laughing and playing video games, walking outside and eating ice cream, smiling and not saying a thing. "Lost is he, deep in the snow. So very cold and too weak to tremble. Soon, his time will come. More heartache," the creature points at Christopher's heart and the end of its finger is beaming with colored lights. A fae. It must be. The books he's been reading mention them and nothing else fits. "Too much hurt for you. Come with me, little Chris. My land is gold of air and pure of laughter. It heals all wounds and contains no pain."

The fae reaches out its open hand to Chris, waiting for him to take it. 'Come away, o human child,' everything around him vibrates with a low, syrupy and tempting song, 'To the waters and the wild. With a faery, hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you can understand...'

Chris blinks slowly. A kind of daze has been creepingly coming over him. "Come away..." he repeats. "Is my mom there?"

The fae tilts its head backwards. The light shines out of it with more colors than Chris had ever experienced and it's mesmerizing, he'd like to keep standing in this projected rainbow. "Those who have left, have left," the harmony of its voice explains patiently. "Ours is the land of those who forever stay. Come with me, littlest one, and no one will leave you again."

'People always leave,' Buck once told his father. He sounded so sad. It flashes in Christopher's mind, followed by another memory. His dad, coming back from seeing Frank, quieter than usual and looking around the house for anything that Chris might have done right. An excuse for a long hug. And he knows. No matter how painless, he can't leave.

"You want to help me?" he asks.

The fae nods and splinters of colorful light fall out of its hair.

"Make sure I'm not hurt now?"

Another nod and dazzling, casual sight of beauty.

"Then help my dad find our Buck."

The fae's eyes grow wide, as if the thought is brand new to it.

"We are... not to interfere in the ways of this world."

"You already are, by asking me to go with you. But I'm not going. I'm not leaving them."

"Even at the cost of broken heart?"

Chris lays his hand on his chest and listens. "I think it can keep beating. But not without them."

"Soon, there will be no them. Only the man left."

"Not if you help."

The fae looks with wonder at him. "It is not done. It never has been."

"Nothing is ever done before it's done for the first time." His dad said it to Buck once, trying to convince him to go horseback riding together.

The fae comes closer, as if wishing to inspect him. "Littlest," it says. "Wise." It shakes its head sadly. "Too wise already for our land. Ours is for the innocent of mind. You may not come."

"But you really want to help. I can tell. So do that, here!"

The fae flies back a little. Then it spreads its arms and its long strands of hair rise and shine in the air. "Look," it finally says and the visions of Buck transition once more. Chris can see him. Lying in the snow. His body barely visible. His skin almost as white as the powder enveloping him. His birthmark barely recognizable as it paled. His eyes shut. His lips blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fae's repeated quote is from William Butler's Yeats poem _The Stolen Child_.
> 
> Please feel free to come say hi, drop feedback, send questions or prompts at [my Tumblr](https://matan4il.tumblr.com/), it's all appreciated! <333


	2. Eddie

The waters have frozen in the stream, running alongside Eddie without flowing, and the wild life that would certainly walk this land in summer is nowhere to be seen. He's been making his way through the snow, on rocky mountain terrain, using only his army training to navigate and his gut to tell him the way.

He looks at his watch, but it's weirdly stopped working, so he tries to estimate how long it's been based on the sun's location in the sky, but whenever the snowfall thickens, it gets harder to tell.

He's been walking out here for so long, his ears have become numb to the sound of wind howling, rushing at his numb face with another batch of prickling snow. That must be why at some point he thinks he's hearing distant bells. He tries to ignore them, but the sound is beautiful and calming, undermining the howls. He might have directed his footsteps according to that without even noticing, because before he knows it, he's no longer on the path he had meant to be following.

He stops for a second to breathe and reaches up. With his glove, he shakes off the building layer of snow on top of his coat's hood, which has started the process of crystallizing into ice.

When he looks around him again, he thinks that he's spotted something. He's not sure, it's too small and far away, it could be his eyes playing tricks on him, but Eddie thinks it's not white. He sprints towards the object.

It's pretty close to futile, the deep snow slows him down considerably, but Eddie won't give up. He keeps trudging and the closer he gets, the clearer it is that there is something out there, it's not just an optical illusion.

When he bypasses a small mound of snow, his heart nearly stops at what unfolds before him. Buck, the sight of him looking like a snow angel, beautiful and terrible. 

Eddie starts running again, this time the futility of his efforts to advance faster doesn't stop him, he nearly falls over himself, moving too fast through the piled up snow, until he drops down by Buck's cold body.

Fuck. Of course he's unconscious. Eddie looks for vital signs right away. Buck's wrist pulse is weak, but it is there, a positive testament that the body's core temperature hasn't reached the lowest, most dangerous levels yet. No hints of blunt force trauma either. His heart rate is faint, but the breathing is adequate and all airways are open. The position he's been in has given him substantial shelter from the winds. The snow that's covered him has not melted, leaving his insulated clothes thankfully dry. But his skin and lip color is all wrong. It's stage 3 hypothermia.

Eddie quickly begins to remove the snow from him, making sure not to move Buck needlessly. If he does, it could send cold blood with metabolic waste from the body's periphery to its core, risking cardiac arrest. When Eddie finally has him uncovered, he removes the insulated mittens, boots and socks to check for possible frostbite. None, luckily. He puts them back on and touches Buck's face gently. The walking distance back isn't insurmountable, but Eddie's driven by an urge to start the rewarming efforts already. He doesn't administer CPR, just touches his lips to Buck's nearly frozen ones and breathes, sending in oxygen and warmth.

After a couple of beats, Eddie slips his hands under Buck and carefully, he lifts the muscular body, trying to maintain it as much as possible in the same posture, all while rising to his feet very slowly. He turns around and starts making his way back, stopping every once in a while to breathe into Buck. Here and there, he thinks he hears bells, but he can't be sure, not over the sound of his own heart, beating too quickly.

When he's finally approaching the parking lot, there are several members of the ski patrol there. Eddie detects the incident commander among them.

"I need a stretcher over here," he calls out and once they've heard him, there's some commotion and two EMTs run towards him with a stretcher and additional first aid supplies.

Eddie lays Buck down on it and immediately starts briefing them about his findings, asking for a heating blanket and heat pads. They work together to wrap Buck up in the thermal insulating blanket, placing the pads strategically, to minimize the after-drop, as the rewarming process is bound to start sending that cold, dangerous blood pumping to Buck's core. This is the worst, most unpredictable part and the only thing they're completely helpless to prevent.

The incident commander has joined them by now and Eddie turns to him. "It's not enough," he says, determinedly.

"Son, there's nothing more t..."

"Yes, there is. Get another stretcher here. For me. I'm a universal blood donor. We can give him a transfusion of my blood to warm him from the inside."

"That is dange..."

"Dangerous for me as well and not a guarantee for anything, I know. Look, he's strong, he can make it. But we need to give him his best fighting chance. So let's do this instead of wasting time."

The commander picks up his walkie talkie and gives the required orders.

Before Eddie knows it, he's on a stretcher, a needle in his arm and a tube connecting him with a fine, twirling red line, to Buck. There's a blanket around him as well, to be on the safe side, as the two stretchers are slowly being carried into the police station.

Eddie's getting dizzy. It's as if gravity is toying with him, pushing and pulling at him, making everything dance on waves, up and down, slow and fast, confusion everlasting as nothing comes into focus anymore. It could be the cold, the exhaustion, the blood loss or all of these at once. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, he's inside the station, the stretchers positioned on the benches used for overnight detainees.

"Come on," one of the paramedics hovers over him then, offering him a mug of hot beverage. "Drink this up."

Eddie's still disoriented and at first he goes to grab the mug with both hands, when he feels the plastic tube still connected to the needle digging underneath his skin.

"Buck!" Eddie has to see him.

"He's doing really well thanks to you. Now drink."

With one free hand, Eddie takes the mug and gets some help sitting up to take a sip. It's hot and he can feel its exact route down his throat from the contrast. He didn't realize how cold he himself has gotten.

He takes another sip and as soon as he's remotely feeling like himself again, he glances at the other bench. Color has evidently been gradually returning to Buck's face and it's the simplest and best sight ever. All Eddie wants to do is fall to his knees again by the stretcher and reverently kiss the re-blossoming pink shade of the birthmark.

Suddenly his head snaps. "My son. Chris, where...?"

"I'm right here, Dad."

Eddie can't see Christopher. When he looks around, there's a curtain that they drew over the holding cell's bars, to give him and Buck some privacy. But simply hearing his son's voice is a relief, followed by the sound of the crutches clacking their way closer. As soon as he comes into view, the paramedic helping by holding the curtain aside, Eddie motions for his son to come straight away to him. As soon as Chris does, he's enveloped in the biggest hug.

"You alright, mijo?" Eddie asks. There's a part of him that says he should have insisted his son be kept away from this part of the station, but he can't help it, after the day's ordeal, he needed to see Chris with his own eyes, to know that he was safe and sound, to hold him tight.

"I am. Mmm. Walking in the snow to get here wasn't fun. But I made it."

Christopher's head is tucked against him and Eddie can feel his son's answer in the warmth that spreads where breath comes out.

"You always do, buddy." Then he tears himself away to look at Chris. "You saw Buck." It's not a question, there's no way this smart boy would miss the other bench when the curtain was pulled over for him. Or the plastic tube with dark red liquid running through it. "He's going to be okay, though. I promise."

He shouldn't say that. On the job, he never would. But life without Buck is so unimaginable that Eddie's sure. He may not believe in magic, but he is going to will it into existence if he has to. The universe owes him this.

The paramedic is sitting in the far corner of the room, gracious enough to keep busy by examining a patient chart that someone brought over.

Eddie makes room for Chris to sit on the stretcher beside him. "We just have to wait a little, be patient. He's coming back to us."

"I know," his son says, unperplexed. "You found him in time."

It's the faith of a kid and it's lovely, all the more so when it comes from a child who has lost so much before. Eddie wonders how is Chris so strong still and wishes he could always retain this sense of security in the good that exists within this world. It's impossible, of course, and there are more urgent miracles to pray for.

"Do you want to play a game?" is what Eddie asks, chasing all these inexpressible thoughts away, and because he has no clue how long they'll have to wait before Buck wakes up. Or before...

Chris nods. "I spy?" he suggests.

"Oooh, good one. Let me start. I spy with my little eye..." Eddie draws out the last word, scanning the room as if contemplating his choice. He then blatantly settles his gaze on Chris. "something beginning with 'cute'," Eddie declares and when his son giggles in response, he runs his fingers through Christopher's curls playfully.

"That's not how you play," comes the objection, but the giggles have intensified into laughter and that's all that matters.

"Alright, then how is it done? Remind me."

The game makes Eddie feel almost normal, they've played it so often, every time they've had to wait for a test or a doctor. But also in the lead up to a surgery. This is their own brand of normal, he supposes.

When Chris gets tired they switch over to one of his other favorites, naming a country, a state or a city that begins with the same letter the last one mentioned ends with. He enjoys watching Eddie squirm as he keeps getting served with places that all end with the same letter and he's starting to run out of answers.

"Jmsudjs..."

It's Buck's voice. Weak and his speech is slurred, but he's awake and trying to communicate. Eddie nearly jumps out of his stretcher, but remains mindful of Chris and the transfusion tube. He wants to check up on Buck, but the paramedic places a firm hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit down on a chair that she brought over.

"I won't tell you to go back to lying down, but he's my patient. I hope that's clear."

He nods and watches as she checks for vital signs, making sure the binding of Buck to his wrapped blankets is still holding, to prevent any attempt at paradoxical undressing.

Eddie waits patiently until she's done and is stepping away. Then he touches the side of Buck's face. It's a bit puffy and still cold, but it's so very much _him_ , right there, and he reacts to Eddie's fingers, blinking a couple of times, an unfocused look revealed under those long lashes.

"Wheeere'm..." he tries.

"Buck, it's Eddie. I'm here and so is Christopher. That's all that matters. You don't have to talk. Or make any effort. You just rest. Don't try to push through this all bullheaded, like you always do. Let your body do its thing at its own pace."

Chris comes to his side and with his free arm, Eddie gathers his son into his lap.

"We're here, Buck," a small hand joins his on the cold cheek, over which one single tear is now falling, warm.

Buck nods his head a little bit and closes his eyes.

Maybe he's fallen asleep, maybe he's only resting, for once doing what he's told. It doesn't matter. Eddie and Christopher keep their hands touching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are so appreciated and you can always contact me for anything via [my Tumblr](https://matan4il.tumblr.com/) as well! <33333


	3. Buck

They speak in hushed voices until Chris is hungry. The paramedics have to rotate anyway, so the one leaving takes him with her. Eddie doesn't budge from his spot, even when advised to eat. Another paramedic comes in and brings him a plate with some plain toast on it. He says thank you, but consumes it slowly and in a lot of small bites. He has no appetite. 

By the time they have to take out Eddie's transfusion, he's relieved that they have determined Buck's temperature and vital functions are normal enough. The needles are taken out, the injection sites are covered with gauze. 

After they're done, Buck's arm is left uncovered. Eddie takes the motionless hand and joins it with his own. The new paramedic notices and places the blanket back over everything, other than their intertwined fingers.

Christopher comes back and they go on playing. This time, it's Twenty One Questions. He wins more rounds than he loses.

Buck listens to them even before he understands what is going on. It becomes gradually clearer and it warms him up that they're there more than any blanket ever could. Once he finally feels strong enough, he squeezes Eddie's hand. "I want some food," he says. His lips are dry and his speech takes effort.

"Buck!" he hears and he opens his eyes to stare into Eddie's. They're widened and so intent on him, like he's the actual center of the world, something he's never been to anyone else in his life, no matter how much they loved him. He almost left, didn't he? Without meaning to, yet he almost left Eddie and Chris without him. But he came back. Whatever part of him held onto the last bit of his consciousness wouldn't let go. Of course he fought to return to this, to the love in Eddie's eyes, to the joy in Christopher's voice. Who wouldn't?

There's a paramedic that comes over and checks for his temperature. He's given a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. He does his best with it. Eddie helps. It makes everything's better already.

They talk to him and he replies. Minimally at first, but he notices his speech is slowly getting better and comes easier. What they exchange is mostly relieved chatter, the type of meaningless babbling and jokes he's heard from countless 911 callers once they've realized the person they had called for was going to make it.

After some time, he can turn onto his side. He wiggles a little to get into this position, because Eddie never lets go of his hand. Chris takes advantage of his new posture and climbs in with him. They're all grinning at that and Buck reaches out to hug this boy with one arm.

"Best company I could ask for," he says, content.

"Better than Dad?" Chris inquires.

"Are you serious? Obviously. You smile way more."

"Oh, is that so?" Eddie raises one eyebrow at him. "Well, if you've improved enough that you can take cheap shots at me, you can answer my question..." his tone becomes far more serious at the end. "What were you doing, risking yourself out here?"

Buck sighs. It seems so foolish in hindsight, Eddie will definitely be pissed. "I was... don't be angry, Eds. I was looking for the white Snowshoe Hare."

"What?"

"They're not supposed to be found south of Central California, but a white one was spotted in the mountains here. I thought I could track it down after reading about them. Lure it to come to me. I was careful, too! I dressed in the best clothes for this place, I was..." he cuts himself off because nothing he's saying manages to erase the disbelief off of Eddie's face. "I'm sorry," he offers instead, "it was stupid. I just thought I could bring it home to you, as a gift for Christmas. Make Chris happy."

It sounds even stupider now that he's said it out loud, but when he planned it, the whole thing made sense in his mind.

"Even without an avalanche..." Eddie starts and Buck braces himself for the following lecture, when a pair of small arms slips around his neck.

"You're the only gift that I want," Christopher says quietly and without reservation. That was unexpected, but Buck is so grateful for it. He flexes his arm around Chris, to let him know.

"Please, don't be angry," he says to Eddie, eyes pleading.

"Moron," is the response, but there's no real annoyance behind it. Buck must be looking well enough for Eddie to be fine with berating him again. If anything, it's joy that's hiding in there.

A few more hours of his state consistently improving and he's cleared to go home. He is warned, however, that someone has to stay with him for a day or two more and to not hesitate in going to the ER right away if anything out of the ordinary happens.

"You're coming to our place," Eddie determines and even if Buck wanted to argue with this... but he really doesn't.

He's still given one blanket to keep on him and on the drive back, his own Jeep left behind to be retrieved another day, the heating is turned up more than normally.

"I think it's okay now, Eds. You can lower the temperature."

"You've proven that you don't think at all."

Buck groans. Clearly he's going to pay for this one, and for a while to come.

Before they've even reached their destination, Christopher has succumbed to the day's exhaustion and has to be carried inside by Eddie.

"You go in first," he says, like he has to keep a watchful eye on Buck even during the short walk from the driveway and it's eye roll worthy and endearing all at once.

When they walk in, the house is dark and warm, familiar in a way that settles underneath Buck's skin, calming him down. It's not his house, but he belongs here and it's good to come here instead of having to go to his loft.

Eddie doesn't bother turning on the lights. It's not that dark anyway, not with the curtains pulled aside and lights from outside falling in. He's heading for Christopher's room and lays him down in his bed. Buck is close behind, watching the goodnight kiss.

When Eddie stands back up and turns to leave the room, his silhouette accentuated by what is probably the light of the full moon, they come face to face. Then Buck remembers he's supposed to step to the side, let his friend through. But it's hard to bring himself to move when there are silver dots in Eddie's eyes and something that Buck has to say.

A hand on his arm guides him a few steps backwards and out of the room, then the door to Christopher's room is closed. Buck soaks in the heat of Eddie's touch, of his breath when they're still so much in each other's space. It's always good, but it's even more precious to him now, because he feels it running in his veins as well.

"I know," he says. Eddie tilts his head, like he's asking to hear more, but is too caught up in listening to speak. "I heard the paramedics talking. You went out there and you found me. You brought me back, you..." Buck stops, because there is no turning back after he says this. "Your heart kept mine beating."

"Buck, I..."

"But it has for some time now, don't you think? After Abby left, I was living my life like a ghost and then you stepped into it. You and Chris. You brought me back to being myself and then showed me I could be even more than I was before. You gave me a family and a place where I feel that I belong. Eddie, how can I not be in love with you after all that?"

The silence in response is deafening.

Oh, no. Shit. What has he done? He's been so caught up in today, in the choice that he thought Eddie had made when he went as far as he did to save Buck, but maybe he's been deluding himself, it could be that this is nothing but a standard friendship choice, or not even that, simply something Eddie would have done for anyone whose life he was trying to save and Buck has made a terrible mistake, reading too much into it.

No, what he's doing is worse. He was going to swallow his love whole and never speak it, for Eddie and Christopher's sake, make sure nothing about him would ever hurt them or risk taking anything away from them, but now that Buck has confessed it, his timing is the worst it could be. He didn't think about the fact that Eddie, cornered into a rejection, would be stuck with him in the same house for the sake of supervising his condition.

Buck begins to stutter, trying to force an apology out.

But then the hand on his arm holds on stronger and the breath on his face gets hotter, closer. The twinkles of light in Eddie's eyes grow bigger and before Buck has a chance to fully process what's about to happen, there are lips on his, kissing him like he hadn't even dared imagine, drinking him in, stealing his breath away.

Fair enough. It was Eddie's to begin with.

Buck lets go of his fears and doubts, holds on in return with his hands and the way he parts his lips, then moans his joy into the deepening kiss. Into its taste, somewhere between the sweetness of hot chocolate under the blankets as a storm rages outside and the softness of chestnuts roasted over the fireplace that everyone's gathered around. But it's so distinctly Eddie, it makes Buck want to savor it forever, rolling his tongue to get all of it and more.

Then it's withdrawn and he feels bereft, his eyes still closed, scared that if he'll open them, he'll find Eddie isn't actually there. Maybe Buck's still on the stretcher and his mind is playing tricks on him, giving him images of happiness and then retracting them away.

"Move in with us."

He does open his eyes at that. Eddie's eyes are staring at him, big and keen. Expectant, and Buck has never been wanted like this in his entire life. There's nothing that he would like more than to say yes.

"Eds, we haven't even been on a single date. You're asking me to move in with you like this and you call me a moron?"

Eddie shrugs and the shine in his eyes doesn't dim. "If you think I need a date to figure out how we'd get along or that I want you here even after you're in the clear from the effects of the hypothermia... All I'm saying is that I'm right. And that it's only a matter of time before you get yourself into another mess and need me to watch over you again. Might as well make it permanent." He runs his thumb over Buck's cheek bone. "Chris, what he said earlier... he's not the only one. You... you're all I want, too. Move in, please."

Buck closes his eyes and leans into the touch. "Yeah," he replies shortly, because who needs more words than that when they're kissing again.

If some tiny creature, not fully of this world, were to be watching this, they might turn their gaze now from the couple only growing more intense in their kissing to the room of that one precious boy who chose to stay. 

And in his bed, Christopher is dreaming of faeries - ones who come to visit and play, but that can never lead him far from his home and family - happy and safe in the certainty that there is no magic greater than love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are so appreciated and you can always contact me for anything via [my Tumblr](https://matan4il.tumblr.com/) as well! <33333


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